


lover, when i sing my song

by quantumoddity



Category: Nightrunner Series - Lynn Flewelling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Poetry, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: Alec puts his new found literacy to good use while in bed with Seregil and a book of love poems-The poems are ‘Come, My Celia’ by Ben Johnson and Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare
Relationships: Alec í Amasa/Seregil í Korit
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	lover, when i sing my song

Seregil had given Alec so many gifts, more than he would ever be able to count. He’d given him a hundred perfect nights together, a thousand soft kisses, a million smiles that wouldn’t otherwise have crossed his face. He’d saved his life, obviously the one or two times, but also quietly, almost unnoticeably, every single day when Seregil would look at him and see so much kindness, beauty and worth in Alec. He’d given him the gift of a home, a sense of safety, a purpose in life. He’d given him friends and family, a world that was so much bigger than he’d ever realised and he’d given him his place in it. 

Alec knew he’d never be able to repay the many gifts that his lover had given him, that all he could do was use them and delight in them to show his gratitude. So that was exactly what he did. 

And often he’d struggle to find one that he felt more grateful for than his ability to read. 

He could hardly remember it now, the magical moment where the words on the page had stopped being disjointed, stumbling sounds and had fit themselves cunningly together into ideas and stories and places he could see in his mind’s eye. Now it was as natural to him as breathing, as simple as pulling air into his lungs, what had once seemed to a much younger, rangier Alec like an impossible magic. 

Being able to spend sleety, rainy days curled up in front of the sitting room fire in another world full of clashing weapons and cunning heroes and passionate kisses was one of the best gifts he’d ever been given, being able to stand in a country halfway across the world without leaving the chair he lounged in or remembering something he’d learned from a book that saved him from the Red Tower with a second to spare. He couldn’t remember not having that simple joy in his life, the time before Seregil had spent patient hours on hours helping him earn his letters. 

But Alec could definitely remember the fun he’d had practising. 

“Now, reading poetry is a different beast entirely. It’s meant to be spoken aloud, the way it’s said is every bit as important as the words themselves...” Seregil sounded as much of a lecturer as any wizard at the Orëska House. 

Though Alec doubted any wizard over in that sprawling palace had ever dictated a lesson while stark naked. Although, having met most of them, perhaps he was doing them a disservice…

The thought made him grin as he shifted the book of poetry from one hand to the other, so he’d have one free to comb through Seregil’s hair, loose but still holding the tangles of being messily tied back all day. His lover actually purred, as if he were a giant tomcat, angling his head to guide Alec’s fingers to where he wanted their touch. 

Alec loved having Seregil under him, believe it or not for reasons other than just having their cocks pressed close together. Straddling him like this, the two of them without a stitch of clothing, he could admire every sharp angle of his body, run the tip of a finger along the hollow of his throat and the hard ridges of bone across his chest, follow the path of the many scars that still shone under the candlelight, press a palm to his chest to feel his heart fluttering there like a restless bird. Or, as he was doing now, bury his fingers in those thick, dark waves. Like this, Seregil felt truly his, every inch of him mapped out and conquered and made home. 

“Are you listening to me, talí?” 

Alec would never be beyond blushing, his cheeks colouring as he grinned crookedly, “You’re the one that insists on lessons with so many...distractions around.” He emphasised his point with a slow roll of his hips, increasing the friction between their bodies. 

Seregil snorted and brought the flat of his hand down on Alec’s bare ass, just teasingly, “Behave. I told you, this will be useful. Poetry is about  _ feeling,  _ not reading. If you’re reading a tragic ballad full of death and heartbreak, feel sad. If you’re reciting a stirring, glorious call to arms, feel patriotic. If you’re reading poems about love, well…”

Alec rolled his eyes, “Yes, you explained your methods. I still feel like this is something of an excuse to have me naked and at your disposal.”

Seregil smirked, his dark eyes lighting up with mischief, “Well, that too.” 

Alec was tempted to hit him with the poetry book but he was in too good of a mood. Outside, the city was cold and grey and slugging through a seemingly endless winter but here he was in the soft expanse of a canopied bed, warm and laughing as the most beautiful man in the world pulled him down and kissed at his stomach and taught him to recite poetry. It was impossible to be annoyed, even in jest.

“Besides…” Seregil murmured, still nuzzling at the soft, golden down that grew in such a convenient path towards his lover’s cock, “You learn best when you have a reward, talí.”

_ And what a reward,  _ Alec sat back up, his legs bracketing Seregil’s thin hips, “Very well. So, start with any verse?”

The book was a slim but beautifully bound thing, the pages no taller than his palm, wrapped in soft red leather and edged in gold ink that caught the candle light as he flicked through them.

“Go with your heart,” Seregil nodded, flopping back, blissfully boneless against the plush pillows, eyes closed to listen.

Alec took another second to gaze at him, hesitant to take his eyes away but there was always the comfort that Seregil would still be there when he looked back. That he’d always be there, right be Alec’s side. 

One page of neatly printed black text held his attention more than the others. He still had to take a moment, an inhalation, where he had to poise himself and think about the very first sound, the way to move his lips. After the first one, it came as easily as running water. 

_ “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; _

_ Coral is far more red than her lips’ red; _

_ If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; _

_ If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head…” _

Seregil chuckled, eyes still closed but his hands found Alec’s hips and his long thumbs began rubbing small circles where his talímenios had grown softer after some time in the city living as lords every other week. It comforted him to feel it there.

“Slow down at the ends of the lines,” he advised when Alec paused for breath, “Savour it, you're in no rush.”

Alec nodded, expression tight with concentration like they always got when he had a task Seregil had set for him. He even seemed to have forgotten the growing stiffness in his own cock, set on the words. 

_ “I have seen roses damasked, red and white, _

_ But no such roses see I in her cheeks, _

_ And in some perfumes is there more delight _

_ Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks… _ wait, what?” Alec broke off, frowning in confusion, “Does he like her or not?”

Seregil grinned, he could picture the way Alec’s brow was furrowing so furiously in that adorable way it did even through closed eyes, “Read on. You have a gorgeous voice, my talÍ.”

“I have a Northern accent rough as a badger’s arse, as you well know,” Alec muttered, now putting on a foppish, over wrought actor’s cadence.

“ _ I love to hear her speak, yet well I know _

_ That music hath a far more pleasing sound. _

_ I grant I never saw a goddess go; _

_ My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground…” _

Seregil burst out laughing, “You’d never get cast in any respectable theatre on the Street of Lights sounding like that.” 

“How dare you, sir,” Alec hummed primly, his voice then softening as he took in the last few lines, eyes scanning a few words ahead of his lips. 

“Oh... _ And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare _

_ As any she belied with false compare... _ that’s beautiful.”

Seregil opened his eyes to see Alec’s expression as he sat back, bringing their skin into contact again, though his heart was still clearly lost in the words. There was an ache in Seregil’s chest; in his youth, Alec was so sincere and earnest about everything. Even with how much growing he’d done in such a short space of time, there was still that innocence running through him that could feel the words of a simple, well known poem with such keenness. 

Seregil prayed that his lover never lost that. 

He took advantage of the distraction, shifting their weights and turning them over, so now Alec was pressed to the sheets and he was the one with his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of Alec’s head, knees the same around his hips. His lover’s yelp of surprise was caught between their lips as he kissed him. 

“Try another,” Seregil whispered, without pulling away, only moving down his body when those blue eyes focused and fixed on another page, his voice a little more breathy at the edges. 

_ “ _ _ Come, my Celia, let us prove _

_ While we may, the sports of love; _

_ Time will not be ours forever; _

_ He at length our good will sever…” _

Seregil took a moment to listen, mouthing at Alec’s collarbone to leave a mark. Then he moved further down, his skin whispering against the sheets. Under his touch, Alec’s body was responsive and eager, clearly his focus was starting to split. Wherever they met, his lover’s skin was warm with a needy flush and a quiver was starting to resound through his voice, especially when Seregil settled between his legs and began nuzzling at the base of his cock. 

“ _ Spend not then his gifts in vain. _

_ Suns that set may rise again; _

_ But if once we lose this light... _ Seregil…”

“Keep going…” he murmured, nose full of just Alec, the heady, musky scent of his skin and the salty tang of the slick running down his erection that now stood to full attention. He’d never found a perfume that intoxicated him half as much as the natural smell of his lover’s body; more than once Alec had been helplessly pinned under him when he’d come home flushed and sweating after a night running job or an hour at the archery butts, laughing as his talí had refused to let him bathe. 

Alec swallowed hard and soldiered on, Seregil now mouthing along his length.

_ “But...but if once we lose this light, _

_ 'Tis with us perpetual night. _

_ Why should we defer our joys? _

_ Fame and rumor are but toys.” _

Seregil took the head of his lover’s cock in his mouth, concentrating there a moment, feeling the slit part for the very tip of his tongue, filling his mouth with a burst of salt like he’d taken a sip of seawater. With that fresh wetness, he took long, slow pulls of him, taking as much of Alec’s not inconsiderable length as he could. With how strained and tight Alec’s voice became every time he sank down so low he was nearly pressing his nose to his lower belly, it was not unlike playing some kind of instrument. And Seregil was far famed for his skills in music. 

“Oh fuck, Seregil, fuck... _ Cannot we delude the eyes _

_ Of a few poor household spies... _ right there, yes, right there,  _ fuck…” _

Seregil would have smiled smugly if his lips and tongue and teeth weren’t very occupied. Alec’s voice was beyond beautiful now, strained and thin with want. Seregil could feel him throbbing against his inner cheek, clearly close. His hands reached up to find his nipples already hard and only too eager to be played with. 

“ _ Or...or... _ fuck, Seregil, I can’t…” Alec sounded desperate, right on the verge, everything so overwhelming. 

Seregil pulled off his cock, hair falling in his face but it was the furthest thing from his mind in that moment. Often Alec got like this, the pressure climbing so much that he was almost afraid to let go. Seregil would coax him through it, taking his hand and jumping with him. 

He’d prepped himself at the start of this lesson, wanting to keep his options open as it were. So it was the easiest thing in the world to rise back up over Alec’s cock, wet skin shining in the flickering candlelight, part himself and sink down on him, taking him right to the hilt. Alec gave a strangled scream but there was relief in it, the closeness reassured him, anchored him. 

“I’m here, talí, I’ve got you,” Seregil promised breathlessly, breathing shakily in and out before he began the steady rise and fall that would take them the rest of the way. 

There were tears heavy on Alec’s eyelashes, there often were when things rushed to a crescendo like this. But still he kept going. 

“ _ Or his easier ears beguile, _

_ So removed by our wile?  _ Oh Aura, Seregil, fuck I’m coming…”

“Then come, my sweet, I’m ready for you.”

The book fell from his hands, fell to the bed, as Alec groaned and arched his back, everything in him tight as a drawn bow as he filled Seregil with the sweetest kind of heat. Seregil moaned his talímenios’ name as he experienced his own rushing, rising peak, the snap of pure, white pleasure behind his eyes and then the ring silence of afterwards. He didn’t have the strength to stay up anymore, lying across Alec, not caring about the mess on their stomachs or the sweat or the panting for air. They were still joined, the connection too sweet to lose just yet. 

For a long time, all they could do was catch their breath, clinging to each other with shaking hands, needing that closeness as much as their lungs needed the air. They didn’t say anything, they didn’t need to. The bond was there, clear and shining as a thread of sunlight in summer. 

After a moment, Alec’s lazily grasping hand found the book, still open on the right page. Seregil made some exhausted, indistinct noise but Alec shook his head, intending to finish what he'd started. 

Now his voice was soft and raw, honest and nothing but Alec in it. He cuddled Seregil close with one arm, letting him pillow his head on his chest and playing with the dark curls that were now messier than they were before. 

_ 'Tis no sin love's fruit to steal _

_ But the sweet theft to reveal. _

_ To be taken, to be seen, _

_ These have crimes accounted been.” _

Alec smiled softly at the last few lines, finding them very appropriate. Seregil was grinning too, leaning into Alec’s warmth and kissing his skin, tasting the faint salt there as he drifted towards sleep. 

“Thank you,” Alec murmured, thinking again of gifts. 

“What for?” Seregil whispered, only half awake now. 

Alec gave a soft, satisfied sigh, leaning back. The candles were slowly going out, guttering in their own wax, the night was surrounding them in a gentle, hazy darkness and his two hearts were safe in their separate chests. 

“Everything, talí.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love it if you left a comment on this fic, I know it's a small fandom and your fic writers could use all the encouragement!


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